Stood For His Country's Glory

Will Future Ages Believe That Such Stupid Bigotry Ever Existed!

I Will Tear This Folly From My Heart, Though Every Fibre Bleed As I Rend It Away!

Where, Where Was Roderick Then? One Blast Upon His Bugle Horn Were Worth A Thousand Men.

I Will But Confess The Sins Of My Green Cloak To My Grey Friar's Frock, And All Shall Be Well Again.

On His Bold Visage Middle Age Had Slightly Press'd Its Signet Sage, Yet Had Not Quench'd The Open Truth And Fiery Vehemence Of Youth: Forward And Frolic Glee Was There, The Will To Do, The Soul To Dare.